Old Wounds
by Catherine Chen
Summary: Harley takes a bath and thinks about her life with the Joker.


Sometimes I'm just not in the mood to write romance. It happens. It's at times like that when I like to revisit characters like Harley. It's a bit more serious and maybe not completely in character but I hope you'll like it anyway. Let me know what you think.

As always, PLEASE REVIEW!  
Much love, Cat

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Harley flicked on the light switch as she stepped into the bathroom, her slippers squeaking slightly against the tile floor. She shut the door and locked it just in case Mr. J. came back from his job early. She wasn't expecting him home tonight at all but you could never be sure about this kind of thing. Their lives were unpredictable to say the least. She walked over to the bath and turned the knob, straightening as hot water began to gush out of the spout.

Knowing it would take a while for the large tub to fill, she padded back to the mirrored cabinet over the sink. She paused for a moment to examine her reflection in the glass, running her fingers gently over her cheek. Her makeup looked a bit cakey. She removed her cowl and opened the cabinet door to take out a small black jar. Unscrewing the lid, she scooped out a liberal amount of the clear gel with her fingers and slowly smeared it over her face. The white paint began to separate from her skin as it mixed with the gel. As she rubbed her fingers over her lips, the black lipstick smeared into the paint, dirty black smudges recording the path of her fingers over her visage. She shut her eyes and massaged her eyelids, blurring more black pigment into the white paint as her mascara dissolved. Opening her eyes and grimacing at the mess looking back at her in the mirror, she turned on the faucet and began to splash water over her face.

Lifting her head she reached for a towel, patting her face dry before staring at the stranger in the mirror. Aside from the straggly blond hair matted to her hair by sweat, she had the look of an All-American girl next door. With her bright blue eyes, full cheeks, slightly pointed nose, and soft pink lips, she could have graced the cover of a magazine. _Revolting._

Untying the sash of her robe and letting it fall carelessly to the floor, Harley stepped out of her slippers and into the bath, wincing as she slowly became accustomed to the heat of the water. She turned off the faucet, sinking deeper under the water and letting the heat soothe her aching muscles. She reached up to massage the shoulder that was still sore from the time Batman had pinned her arms behind her back, grinning as she remembered how she had retaliated once free by kicking him in the face. Shifting lower in the bath, she lifted a shapely leg, flexing the muscles in her calves and admiring the way the rivulets of water ran down the gentle curves. She twisted her foot in a circle, wincing at the twinge of pain that accompanied a sharp cracking sound. She was getting a bit old for the same acrobatic tricks and she hadn't landed as cleanly as she usually did on a recent set of back handsprings. _And she would have to add extra padding to the inside of her boots_, she thought, examining the bruising on her feet characteristic of ballet dancers. Still, she wouldn't change a thing about her life. She relished the danger, the recklessness, the thrill of spending time with the most exciting, intriguing, compelling man she had ever known. No, she wouldn't trade it for her old life of structure and respectability and ambition. _She had everything she needed. Everything except…_

Harley looked down at the pale hand resting on her belly. She stared at the manicured red fingernails, watching her fingers curve slightly over the flat, athletic stomach as if they belonged to someone else. She remembered a different hand touching her abdomen, explaining the procedure to her as she lay back in the bed, already feeling empty inside. She remembered hearing his voice when she woke up from surgery. She remembered seeing genuine tears shining in his eyes for the first and only time. It wasn't in their plans. It wasn't the right time. How could they do it with their lifestyle? All reasonable, rational arguments. They had made sense at the time. They still made sense. But though she could never hate him, she had hated his voice in that moment; calm, stern, rational. Nothing like his usual teasing drawl. She had hated the dark gray suit and large hat he had worn to hide his identity from the doctor, hated the itchy bed sheets and the harsh fluorescent lighting. But most of all she had hated the way she felt inside. She had hated that awful, dull ache.

The day she'd come home from the hospital was the day he had surprised her with two mewling hyena pups. They had named the, but from the moment she had held them in her arms, she had called them her babies.

Harley shampooed her hair roughly as if she could scrub away her thoughts. She dunked her head under the water, holding her breath for as long as she could before resurfacing, her heart racing as she gasped for breath. She ran her hands over her face to wick away the water as her chest rapidly rose and fell. Sighing, she slid back down into the bath. She had had never spoken to him about it after it had happened. They had become much more cautious about remembering protection and her pills but she had never been able to talk to him about it, never been able to form the words to ask if they'd lost a son or a daughter.

She pulled the plug from the drain, toweling herself off before stepping out of the bath. She wrapped another towel around herself before locking eyes with the blond woman in the mirror as she reached for the door. Her skin was rosy and flushed from the bath and though she still looked like a Miss America contestant, her eyes stared back at Harley sadly, as if they knew all the things she wanted to say. Those sad eyes narrowed and Harley noticed the fine lines beginning to form at the creases. Frowning, Harley opened the cabinet door and took out various containers, arranging them around the sink. She pumped a few globs of moisturizer into her hands and smoothed it over her face, letting it dry before reaching for her jar of makeup. She coated her fingers with the slightly greasy substance before smearing it into her skin, covering the rosy pink skin and fine lines with a thick, even coat of white from her hairline to her clavicle. She powdered her face with a fluffy brush to set the paint, before reaching for a smaller brush to draw in her eyebrows. As a final touch, she coated her lips with her signature jet black lipstick bullet. She ran outside to grab a fresh cowl from the dresser before returning to the mirror. She pursed her lips as though kissing her reflection before blowing a raspberry and hiding her blond hair beneath the black and red cowl. She pasted a defiant grin on her face as she turned off the light and left the room.

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Hope you liked it. Please REVIEW!  
Much love, Cat


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